


we seem to understand the urgency

by brookstone



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: F/F, i wrote this watching episode 6 so if it's a mess then you know EXACTLY why, jamie centric, no manor/ghosts au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27480766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookstone/pseuds/brookstone
Summary: dani's new to bly. jamie's gay.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 10
Kudos: 168





	we seem to understand the urgency

**Author's Note:**

> me: is only on episode six  
> also me: so......... lesbians huh
> 
> (thank god and also jesus for this tweet https://twitter.com/vmeliveve/status/1319298697864171521)

Jamie Taylor has rough fingertips on her left hand from her years of guitar. She has rough palms on both. The soil never fully leaves the beds of her nails.

Jamie Taylor has grazed knees every day of the week. She has shins that don't fare much better. There's a family of fraying fabric patches swallowing her jeans alive.

Jamie Taylor has a scar in the divot of her elbow. She has a bigger, nastier scar just above her ankle-bone. The perversion, her mum says, is the worst wound of all.

She's seventeen when she learns that other people, for once, are on her mum's side. And _that,_ really, learning she was wrong and her mum was right the whole time and she _is_ filthy and the world knows she is too, is the worst wound of all of them.

She's twenty-three when she first kisses a girl — lets a girl kiss her, really — and she decides with tears in her eyes and a whirlpool of beasts in her belly that if this, this gentle little candle-flame that doesn't need to be fed and extravagant to keep every inch of her warm, this perfect alignment of the sun and moon and stars, this beautiful girl's stupid fucking sugary lip balm surrounding her with blind infatuation, if _this_ is wrong, then Jamie's okay with being the worst woman the world's ever seen.

She's twenty-four when she gets punched in the gut with the experience of her first, true, _free_ love — and twenty-five when that vicious hand comes back to tear her heart from her chest and break it.

She's twenty-eight when she meets Dani Clayton.

* * *

"Oi!" Jamie exclaims firmly, accompanied by a knock on the door to Owen's mum's house.

She steps back as she hears feet shuffle, the latch click, and, then, the door opens.

"Hannah,” Jamie says. Hannah smiles. "You all right?" Jamie gives a short nod, and folds her arms.

"Mm. You?"

"Fine, cheers. Where's Owen?"

"Sleeping off a hangover, I'm afraid."

"Course he is." Jamie laughs and takes an awkward breath. "Worth me waiting about for him?"

"Probably not," Hannah answers after a beat, wringing her hands. "I can get him to call you later, if you'd like?"

Jamie shakes her head. "I'm bouncing about today."

"Ah."

"Will he stay in when he gets up then?"

"I don't see why not."

"Fab." Jamie smiles. "Good to see you."

"And you, Jamie." Hannah smiles too.

Jamie walks down the gravel path, the crunching beneath her boots music to her ears, the clicking of the house's lock behind her an unfortunate accompaniment.

Her car is parked a few houses down, green and beat up, and when she closes its door behind her she can't help but revel in the weak scent of Owen's old air freshener and its fragile interplay with Jamie's cigarette butts jammed hastily into the cup holder. Her seatbelt clicks and the engine reluctantly growls into life, and Jamie's soon off with Owen and Hannah long gone from her wing mirror.

* * *

There's a girl on the side of the road. There's a girl on the side of the road in a puffy pink coat. There's a girl on the side of the road in a puffy pink coat, waving to Jamie with one hand and sticking her thumb up with the other.

Jamie frowns.

She slows her car anyway, and rolls the path-side window down.

"Yeah?" she shouts, ducking so the stranger might see her a little better.

"Hi! Thank you so much, hi, I'm Dani, can I get a ride?" the stranger fumbles at the window, flustered but smiling.

 _Of course she's American_.

"I'm not a taxi y'know?"

Dani is taken aback. "It's called hitch-hiking."

Jamie knows. "I know." It's just not common practice in Britain. "We don't really do that here is all."

Dani shuffles uncomfortably.

Jamie sighs. “Where are you headed then?”

Dani lights up. "Bly. I'm visiting a friend! She's called Rebecca, she's really nice and there's a job opening at her school, an—"

"Jessel?" Jamie interrupts, leaning over to open the car door for Dani.

"Y– yeah. How'd you know?" Dani gently places her bags in the back of the car.

"Small town."

“Right,” Dani says with a little nod as she takes a seat next to Jamie, and closes the door behind her. “I’m a big city girl.”

“Right,” Jamie mumbles, pulling back into the road. “I’m Jamie, by the way.”

Dani frowns, squints ever so slightly, looks to Jamie, looks to her hands, and then looks to her bags in the back. “Jamie…”

“Yeah?”

“No, no, no, I think she mentioned you? Rebecca, I mean. In our letters.”

“Why’d she do that?”

“She said you’re friends!”

Jamie shrugs.

“So _are_ you friends?” Dani pursues.

“Kinda,” Jamie says. “Yeah. We were in secondary together, before she went off to some fancy school for college — sorry, _sixth form_ — but she's back now."

“That place in London, right?”

“Yeah.” Jamie looks at Dani for a moment. “How 'bout you then?”

"Oh, nothing interesting!" Dani exclaims with an unsteady lilt in her voice. "I'm a teacher. That’s kinda how I know Rebecca, sister schools, see. I have boy problems, but every girl does really— oh! And I _love_ Madonna, she’s my absolute _favourite_."

Jamie nods slowly. There's more to Dani than key stage one maths and _Material Girl,_ she's sure, but anything more than a gentle agreement feels offensive. She taps the steering wheel with her fingertips and, soon, is suffocated by the sudden silence.

Dani takes a breath in, every now and then, with a spark in her eye as if she's about to speak, but she never says a word. She also keeps looking at Jamie, and Jamie can feel the hesitation in each gaze, even without looking at Dani. It carries an uncomfortable familiarity for her, the burning stare and the tension in Dani's body, but Jamie knows it's naive to even entertain the notion. She keeps her eyes forward.

"I like your shirt," Dani says eventually, making a little gesture to Jamie's caramel-coloured flannel shirt, the sleeves bunched at her elbows and top buttons undone casually.

"Cheers."

Jamie fiddles with the dials and buttons on the central panel, and through a smattering of static she coaxes out the crooning of Carole King.

_I'd like to know that your love is love I can be sure of._

Jamie clenches her jaw.

* * *

Dani bloody Clayton is in Bly for no less than three days before Jamie finds herself daydreaming about kissing her. _Shit. Fuck. Fuck!_

She'd met with Rebecca's dad to help him with his greenhouse, and whilst they were under the elusive English sun Dani had come to the end of the garden and offered to fetch drinks. And when Jamie had taken a gulp of ice cold water and licked her lips, Jamie saw Dani watch her lips and Dani saw Jamie watch her watch Jamie's lips, and they just stared at each other whilst Rebecca's dad went on about slugs or something that's really _nothing_ compared to the electricity next to him.

Then, Dani had come with Rebecca and fucking _Peter_ to the pub with Jamie and Owen and Hannah, and as third wheels are wont to do they found themselves the abandoned parties at the table. Jamie had quickly introduced Dani to pork scratchings and destined herself to a very nasty headache the next morning. Dani had tripped seven too many times on the steps up to Jamie's flat, but had the hindsight to drink a few glasses of water before collapsing on Jamie's bed.

 _Then_ , Dani had written a painfully endearing note to Jamie and left it with a glass of water on a table-cloth next to Jamie's bed.

 _Dear Jamie,_ it read. _Thank you so much for letting me sleep here, I have a feeling I couldn't have got anywhere else safely! It's probably a little sleazy to leave like I've done (or am about to do) but I figured it would be weirder if I stayed, sorry. It really means a lot by the way that you're being so kind to me so thank you again for that. Let me return the favor sometime? Not a question actually because I am going to return that favor whether you like it or not but you can pick the time and place obviously because it's a favor for you not me. Thank you! ♡ Dani. P.S. I'm gonna buy you some coasters_

And, then, lastly, Dani had stumbled accidentally into Jamie in the corner shop, and held onto Jamie's arms so very tight and looked up at her with a tenderness Jamie will never forget, and she swears they were so close she could feel Dani's breath on her skin.

They'd sat outside on a bench next to each other, Dani with a rocket lolly and Jamie a choc ice.

"This is weird, right?" Jamie had asked. “Seeing each other this much.”

"I think so," Dani had answered.

"Even for a place like Bly that's the size of a shoebox, it's… A lot."

"I'll take your word for it."

There was a silence which Jamie used to finish her choc ice and stuff the paper wrapper into her pocket. When she glanced over at Dani, Dani was licking the melted juice off of her hand, and that was the first time that the thought of kissing Dani Clayton came into Jamie's mind.

Thinking about kissing Dani Clayton, Jamie reckoned, was definitely _not_ going to end well.

* * *

Owen is a terrible bass guitarist. Jamie loves it. Owen is a brilliant cook. Jamie loves that too. Owen is way too perceptive for anyone's good and should mind his own bloody business. Jamie hates it.

"It's 1987, Jay," Owen tells her one lazy afternoon in her flat, the pair sprawled over her bed with takeaway chips spilling from their paper between them. "People are fine with it nowadays, right? You need to live your life."

Jamie sighs. "It isn't that easy."

"Do you want me to ask her?"

"That sounds mortifying, thank you very much." Jamie rolls over and reaches for the chips. Before popping one in her mouth, she catches Owen's eye and states very clearly, "She said she has _boy problems_ , mate. And that every girl does. I've got no chance."

Owen shrugs. "You used to be like that. Remember when you asked me out?"

Jamie winces, with a sharp, pained intake of breath. "I do now."

"'I don't think I fancy you but you're the nicest boy I know and my mum says I need to marry a boy so do you wanna marry me?' I think is the gist of what you said," Owen recalls, laughing. "I'd count that as boy problems."

"Maybe," Jamie mumbles. "I was eleven though, being fair."

"Not everyone goes at your pace though, _being fair._ "

"Pillock.”

* * *

Jamie hates her friends sometimes. (A lot.)

Rebecca had asked her to go to the pictures together, and Jamie had agreed, even with the 'Peter will probably come too' disclaimer. So she's standing there with Rebecca in the queue for their tickets, and over Rebecca's shoulder Jamie sees Peter and _Dani_ walk in.

"What the fuck?" Jamie demanded, in a whisper so antithetical to its intent that it hurt Jamie's lips on its way out.

"You'll thank me," Rebecca Jessel says like she's just created the universe.

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

" _Seriously_?"

"You weren't gonna do it yourself."

"Yeah, because Owen's an idiot and Dani is _straight._ "

"And I'm the Queen of England." They reach the front of the queue and Jamie's about to bubble over. "Yeah, two for _Dirty Dancing,_ please. Thank you ever so much. C'mon, Jamie."

Jamie, dejected, takes her ticket from Rebecca and glumly walks off to the side with her. Peter and Dani spot them and walk right over, Dani beaming. Especially when she sees Jamie. _It's an act, though, like when you get a shitty Christmas present. Surely._

And then, after a few minutes of chatting, Rebecca looks slyly at Jamie, and declares, "You two don't want to miss the beginning, right? Better get going." She had at some point slipped her ticket over to Peter who'd passed it to innocent Dani, and Jamie and Dani are at a standstill just staring at one another for the millionth time.

"Oh!" Dani exclaims into the still air. "I thought you really wanted to see _Dirty Dancing_ though Rebecca?"

"We saw it last week," Rebecca says, reaching for Peter's hand. "Have fun, you two." Jamie glowers at the pair, and they walk out with the cheekiest smiles Jamie's ever seen them sport.

"This is cool," Dani offers, and links her arm with Jamie's to lead her to the screening. "I think it'll be more fun like this anyway."

Jamie swallows and her throat hurts from the promise of it. She really can't handle the suspense, the painful hope any longer. "I'm gay, you know?"

Dani's steps stumble, ever so slightly. "Okay," she says, and looks up at Jamie. "I told Rebecca I like you."

Jamie trips this time, worse than Dani but still somehow with an ounce of grace. "Like as in like or like as in fancy?"

"Like as in a crush."

"Right." Jamie's hand reaches for Dani's, a few centimetres away. She holds it tight, more to process things and think than to offer affections. "I might've told Owen I like you too."

Dani nods, and brings them both to a steady stop just at the door of the theatre.

"So," Jamie says slowly. "D'you wanna go out with me?"

"It'd make watching this movie pretty awkward if I said no," Dani replies with a smile that Jamie wants to admire for the rest of her life.

"Hope that's not the only reason you'd say yes."

Dani just smiles wider.

* * *

Jamie Taylor is twenty-eight when she meets Dani Clayton.

She’s twenty-eight when the tremble in her hands over another woman’s bare skin stills and she feels in the lowest part of her heart that this is right, this is good, and this is where she’s meant to be.

She’s twenty-eight when peace enters her life, and, for once, it stays.

**Author's Note:**

> yes the title is from THE song in dirty dancing.... and i owe it all to you uu UUu Uu


End file.
